Eyelash
by LuteLyre
Summary: Kisame's eyelashes are blue. Another Kisa/Ita ramble.


A/N: Another Kisa/Ita! Only this one is definitely a pairing, the other one I've written (Discernment; no relation to this one,) was twisty and open to interpretation, at least in the partner sense. Actually, this one kind of twisted to. *sigh* Well, this one is written from Itachi's point of view, and I don't think anything can be from itachi's point of view without being a little twisted. I mean, really.

Anyhoo, just an interesting little idea I had. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. Or Itachi. Or blue shark-men. *cries a little bit*

Warnings: M for Adult themes and situations. Rather Dark. Kinda smutty. Ehhhh.

Pairings: Kisa/Ita, implied Ita/Sasu

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><p><span>Eyelash<span>

X

_Round the colour wheel we spin, round the rainbow fast,_

_What colour will we land on, love? _

_Well, questions weren't meant to ask._

X

Itachi knows that he will have to kill Kisame.

Eventually.

Itachi will always have to kill Kisame, to eradicate and suffocate and remove, because there must always be no loose ends, there must be no extra, there must be no feelings and thoughts and promises left behind.

Itachi knows that much. That will always be true.

But Itachi doesn't kill him, yet.

No he's not weak, no he's not stalling, and no he does not care.

At all.

But Kisame's eyelashes are blue.

Who would have thought it?

When Itachi actually thinks about, and he finds himself thinking about it far more often than he wants to, because really he has far more important things to think about (_SasukeSasukeSasuke_) and he doesn't have time, the hourglass is running out, things are starting to end _finally_—

But when Itachi actually thinks about it, he supposes it actually makes quite a lot of sense. Everything else about Kisame is blue; soft and hard and dips and angles and light and dark, but all blue.

Kisame is a deep rich dark blue along his chest and stomach and hips, like gleaming sapphires. When Itachi's fingers rake over the ridges of abdominals, Kisame's body shudders and the blue seems to flicker, to sparkle.

Kisame is a blazing sky blue along the bottoms of his feet and palms of his hand, the beds of his nails and undersides of his gills, lighter and paler, but callused hard and deceptively gentle. When Kisame's hands smooth gracefully over and under Itachi's back, his thighs, his hips, Itachi has to remember that the burning comes from his own skin, not the sky.

Kisame lightens from deep cold lake blue along his angel and collar and rib bones into a line of hard, lightning white-blue on his spine. When Kisame moves his spine bends and curves, and Itachi thinks of stormy skies, of frothing rivers, and he runs his tongue along the bumps and vertebrae like he is searching for a taste.

Kisame's eyes are yellow, which Itachi thinks is a corundum, though he would never voice it. He would have expected the pupils of the shark shinobi to be a blue that's more powerful than the rest, a dazzling jewel-bright blue, perhaps, or an ocean-stung, salty blue. Instead they stare gold-yellow, hard as coins and glassy as metal. Itachi watches the gold eyes roll as he mouths his lips over the other Akatsuki's body and knows that he should kill Kisame tonight.

He should.

Kisame is strong, stronger and grittier and tougher than many, but Itachi has eyes that bend realities and splash things that are more red than blood in the air.

And he should, because things are meshing and mixing, (_SasukeSasukeSasuke) _and blood is dripping from his eyes in his sleep and everything is toppling down and down and down…

But when they are pressed together on cloud-cloaks torn aside, Kisame's blue hands and chest and body pressed hot and burning as fast as lightning and flame on Itachi's milk skin, with movement and groans hitting and scratching the air and peach and blue lips meeting and rebounding and spreading hotter than hot into the air, heavy and thick and drowning into any tiny pockets of space where bodies aren't touching, when nails are digging in and friction moves and lungs contract, when blade-sharp teeth draw beads of ruby because Kisame can't control everything, he won't control everything, not that Itachi wants him to, and Itachi gasps and aches and stutters and everything presses in so much that his lungs pant soundlessly and his throat moans silently, his body concaves in on itself and the shark ninja goes stiff and he can't hear anything at all;

Itachi watches as Kisame's eyes close and his mouth opens (blue tongue, but really Itachi should've guessed) and his eyelashes, longer than you'd have thought and more stupid and delicate than anything you know, brush against the blue of his cheeks that are flushed purple-dark as liquid splashes hot inside and Itachi groans boneless in a silent world.

Kisame's eyelashes aren't jewel-bright or ocean-sharp. They are a soft, feathery, gentle blue. Blue like the sun dancing on a noisy brook, blue like the Nakano River, peaceful and singing and cool, that Itachi used to dabble his feet in and skip stones upon when he was young; had no red in his eyes, no ninja in his mind, no duty to anything at all. Blue like the pattering of sheets of rain on a stream. Blue like the soft and silky material of Sasukes shirt when he was a toddler and gave Itachi open-mouthed, gurgling, baby-wet kisses on his nose while he balanced him on his hip. Blue like—

Blue and blue and blue.

Itachi watches Kisame's eyelashes flutter as his grey-blue lids twitch and his moan seems to finally reach Itachi's ears, guttural and deep and ragged like a Kunai in his gut.

Kisame's arms wrap around Itachi, steel bands around his body, bracing. His spine catches the light of the flame and reflects back, azure lightning, in Itachi's spinning eyes as he memorizes the exact shape and colour and length of every single eyelash resting on Kisame's cheekbones and, ever-so-lightly, touching the shell of Itachi's ear.

And Itachi thinks that maybe he doesn't have to kill Kisame quite yet.

X

_Fin_

_X_

A/N: Ooooh. Good? Bad? Mediocre?

Commentary is much appreciated.

Thankyou for reading!

-LuteLyre.


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